


Crossbows and Friendship Bracelets

by CarolPeletier



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:15:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 22,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarolPeletier/pseuds/CarolPeletier
Summary: A collection of Drabbles set during and after Seasons 9 and 10 in no particular order. Carol and Daryl finally begin to explore what their relationship really is.





	1. Bow

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters belong to the creators of the televison series and graphic novel.

He always looked forward to her visits. She usually came once a month, but he hadn’t seen her in almost three. Times were hard at the Kingdom. They’d had bad crops and a sickness, and Carol had felt obliged to stay and help Ezekiel care for their people.

When he heard hoof beats against the soft grass, he knew it was her. Since Michonne had given birth last year, she rarely made the trek out unless there was an emergency. Things were peaceful, and Daryl had gotten used to the solitude. Still, the sound of a visitor had his heart pounding and his hands shaking.

He stood, tossing the stick he’d been whittling toward the lake. And through the clearing, Carol rode in. Her long, silver hair was braided and draped over one shoulder. Her smile widened when she saw him, and he practically jogged over to her, grabbing the horse’s bridle to steady her.

“Hey stranger,” she said with a happy sigh. Daryl felt his voice catch in his throat, and he swallowed the lump that formed there.

“Hey yourself.” He took her hand and helped her down from the horse, and she stood there for a moment, beaming at him before wrapping her arms around him. He held her close, burying his face against her neck, inhaling that intoxicating scent that always left him feeling swimmy in the head. She made a little noise as he held her, and for a moment, he wondered if she was crying. He didn’t want to let her go just yet. It had been too long.

“I missed you,” she whispered with a little laugh before she pulled back from the hug. Her eyes shone when she smiled at him, and he brushed a tear from her cheek with his fingertips.

“How’s Henry and the King?” She looked down. She always looked down when he mentioned Ezekiel.

“Everyone’s good. We’re good.” Her voice stuttered at the end. “The Kingdom’s patching itself back up.” Daryl noticed the bow tied to the horse’s saddle.

“What’s this?”

“Oh. I found this a few weeks ago. I thought maybe you might be able to use it.” She untied the bow and the quiver filled with arrows. He watched her hold the weapon like she was born with it in her hand.

“Nah. Looks better on you,” he murmured.

“You think?”

“You know how to handle that thing?” he asked. She grinned and quirked an eyebrow suggestively. Daryl blushed at his own words.

“I might have been practicing.”

“Yeah? Let’s see what you got.” He slung his crossbow over his shoulder, and she did the same with her new weapon. And together, they headed off toward the woods, fingers barely brushing as they walked, hearts full and neither looking forward to goodbye.


	2. Stay

The storm had passed, but the air was frigid and biting. It wasn’t until she stepped into Aaron’s warm, inviting home that Carol realized just how cold she was. Her feet were soaking wet from the ice and snow they’d trudged through. Her boots had given out three miles from Alexandria. She was sure if she didn’t get dry clothes soon, she’d catch her death from cold.

Aaron’s home had the most room to spread out, which everyone quickly did. Carol noticed how Daryl stayed close to Lydia for a few minutes. The girl’s eyes darted around the place anxiously like she was looking for an escape. Carol recognized and knew it well, that look. But soon, the girl settled on the couch in front of the fire with some of the other children.

Daryl was at at Carol’s side in moments, and Carol felt exhaustion sweep over her. She was shivering, still soaking wet, and Daryl noticed the way she hugged her arms to herself.

“C'mon.” He put his hand on her arm, and they walked upstairs together. The room at the end of the hall seemed like a mile away, and they walked toward it side by side. Daryl opened the door, and Carol sighed contentedly at the sight of a four post bed next to a fireplace. “I’ll be close if ya need me.” He motioned toward the room across the hall. Carol watched him crouch down in front of the hearth and strike a match. In moments, a warm glow filled the room. He stood and looked at her, and she smiled tiredly at him before slipping into the bathroom to change.

Daryl retreated to the small room across the hall, and he got a fire going of his own before slipping out of his wet clothes and beat up boots. He figured Aaron wouldn’t mind him borrowing one of his plaid button downs and a pair of sweat pants. He settled in front of the fire, rubbing his hands and stretching his feet out toward the flames.

A small knock had his attention. When he answered the door, she was standing there in her lavendar pajamas. She smiled shyly at him, and her lower lip quivered.

“You ok?”

“No,” she whispered. He nodded then and chewed his bottom lip a moment.

“Stay with me.” It wasn’t a question. She slipped inside the room and closed the door behind her. He pulled back the covers on the bed, and once she crawled under them, he covered her up and moved to make a bed on the floor out of blankets.

“Daryl?” He looked at her. “Stay with me.” She put her hand on the bed beside her, and he swallowed. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt thick, and his heart was pounding in his chest. He crawled in bed, and when he pulled his arm around her, she curled herself against him and put her head on his chest. She sighed softly, and in just a few minutes, she was sleeping soundly. That night, for the first time in years, Daryl slept soundly, too.


	3. Bracelet

“Shit.” Daryl grunted and bit back another expletive. The pair of needle nose pliers clattered down on the wooden table.

“Daryl?” Carol poked her head out of the tent. She was in the process of braiding her long hair back. Daryl quickly turned from where he sat at the table, hiding his work. “You didn’t sleep last night. What are you doing?”

“Ain’t nothin’.” Carol narrowed her eyes at his back but went back inside. A few moments passed. “God damn it.” Carol stepped back out again, hands on her hips.

“Can I help?”

“No.”

“What are you…”

“I got it,” he insisted. His elevated exasperation piqued Dog’s curiosity. The pooch quirked one ear up and turned his head to the side. Carol shook her head and sighed. She went back into the tent to finish her hair, something that took much longer now that she didn’t just have to run her fingers through it and go.

When light filtered back into the tent, she peeked past her reflection in the mirror to see Daryl standing there awkwardly.

“You good?” she asked with a hint of a smile. Daryl shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Here.” He extended his closed hand toward her, and she reached out. He dropped a dainty bracelet in her palm. It was made of twine and thin wire, and there were little shells and beads threaded through it. On his wrist was a matching one. The corners of her mouth turned up, and her blue eyes widened.

“That’s what you were working on all night?” He shrugged, and his lips twitched into a little smile. “Now everybody will know we’re best friends,” she teased, smirking at him. He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Will you put it on me?” Daryl chewed his lip nervously but did as she asked. He fixed the dainty clasp around her delicate wrist. His fingers lingered over her pulse point a moment longer than he had intended, and when he met her gaze, his face went hot. “Pretty romantic, best friend.”

“Stop.” But his fingers lingered around her wrist, giving it a little squeeze that made her smile.


	4. Breath

He knew she was hurting. She didn’t talk about it, but he knew. Since she’d come back from Oceanside, she’d been searching for an escape, but the thing was, she wasn’t running from him. She sought him out. She stayed close. And when he’d mentioned going west to hunt and look for supplies, she’d eagerly offered to go with him.

Daryl sat in front of the fire, fingers absently fidgeting with the bracelet around his wrist. What had started as a little joke between them had turned into something different entirely, and he actually liked the little thing. He liked it even more, because she wore hers all the time, even when she slept. Well, that was when she actually slept.

Tonight, she was tossing and turning in the tent, and he could hear her. But at the same time, he knew there was little he could do for her. She would wake and be upset and pretend that she wasn’t. He knew her. He knew how it would end.

But when the tossing and turning became whimpering and shaking breaths, he went to her. He crawled into the and lay next to her, watching the worry crease her brow. Her lower lip trembled, and she choked back her cries as her chest shook with ragged breaths.

“No,” she choked out. “Henry.” Daryl’s heart sank. He gently brushed her hair out of her face, and she sighed, turning her face toward him in her sleep.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “You’re just dreamin’.” She sighed again, and her breathing slowed, and when she opened her eyes, she gasped softly. “It’s ok. M'here. Just a bad dream.”

“Daryl,” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes. She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “It wasn’t.” Daryl looked at her. “It wasn’t a bad dream. Not this time.” She curled into him then, no longer able to hold back, and she began to sob. He felt her breath and tears against his neck, and all he could do was pull his arms around her and hold her. He didn’t know what to say. And somehow, it didn’t seem to matter that he didn’t have the words. She clung to him, and he held her, and somehow it was enough.


	5. What We Do

In the days since they’d left home to head west, Daryl discovered he really liked riding with Carol. As nervous as it made him when she was pressed up against him and holding her arms around him tightly, he loved the way he would catch her smiling in the mirrors and the way she’d laugh softly when he’d go over a dip and scoot her further down in the seat. He loved how her hands felt gripping his sides and the way sometimes they moved a little too low. He knew the only reason he kept his concentration and didn’t wreck the fucking thing was because her safety mattered to him more than anything else.

When he stepped out of the tent one morning to find her sitting on the motorcycle alone, it did something to him. His pulse quickened, his throat went dry, and when she looked up at him and smiled, he felt like his legs were made of putty.

“Goin’ somewhere?”

“Just waiting for Pookie,” she offered with a smile.

“Gimme a few. I’ll be ready.”

“You know you could teach me how to ride this thing.”

“Why?” he snorted.

“Because then we could find one for me, and you wouldn’t have to worry about me clinging to you.”

“Don’t mind,” he muttered, turning away before she could see him blush.

“No, really,” Carol insisted, getting off the bike and moving toward him. She put her hand on his arm. “It might be easier.”

“Said I don’t mind,” he insisted. Carol’s fingers lingered on his arm, and when Daryl looked at her, she saw a tinge of red on his face. She took a breath, and her mouth quirked into a little smile. “‘SIdes, it’d be a waste of gas.”

“Oh. Gas, huh?” Carol grinned. Daryl gave a little grunt and a nod, but he didn’t pull away. She brought her other hand to his face and pushed his shaggy hair out of the way. “You’re turning into a sheepdog again.”

“M'fine.” His voice was softer now, and he kind of wished she’d run her fingers through his hair again. She gave him a little smile and let her fingers brush over the scar above his eye. His hand moved to meet hers, and she gasped softly when his fingers curled around hers. “Don’t gotta worry about me.”

“I always worry about you.” She took a breath, and her voice shook. “You worry about me. It’s what we do.” She gave his hand a squeeze, and his thumb rubbed over her knuckles, sending chills down both of their spines. “I think you kinda like having a warm body pressed up against you.” She winked at him, and his heart about burst in his chest. “I think you’re getting used to being around people again.”

“Ain’t just anybody,” he pointed out. “Ain’t nobody else I’d put up with for this long, 'cept you.” He looked down.

“I like you, too,” she grinned, nudging his shoulder with her own. And then, she turned and kissed him on the cheek before turning and walking away.


	6. Did Ya Miss Me?

Daryl's heart leapt in his chest when he saw the boat approach the dock. But, of course, the first person to make it to help Carol off the damned thing was none other than Ezekiel. As he started over to great her, desperately trying not to look too eager, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Connie gave him a smile and held up her notepad.

You two should talk. I'll watch Dog.

Daryl read the words and saw the smile spread over her face. He signed 'thank you,' and then clumsily, 'you don't mind?' She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"She's all you've talked about since she left. Go kiss that girl, already," she signed, grinning at him even put her hands on her hips and Daryl looked back to where Carol was anxiously looking over her shoulder, looking for an out from whatever was going on with Ezekiel. He froze for a moment, when Carol finally turned to come toward him. As Connie walked off, she greeted Carol with a warm hug, and Carol beamed at him over her shoulder. Then Carol came toward him with the most honest smile he'd seen from her in a long time. She looked beautiful. She seemed peaceful, even though he was sure things were bound to change with Alpha still breathing.

"Did ya miss me?" she asked, as he pulled his arms around her and picked her up, holding her so tight he couldn't breathe for a moment.

"Not really," he teased.

"I'll take that," she laughed, as he pulled his arm around her shoulders. It felt good, seeing her smile, hearing her laugh. He'd missed her so much, it almost hurt more seeing her, because he knew she was probably going to leave again, and he didn't want that. He needed her close. He hated tossing and turning at night and wondering if she was alright, if she was safe. And most of all, he hated thinking about all the things he wished he'd been able to say to her. He wondered if maybe some of those things might convince her to stay.

"You look good," Daryl offered, arm still draped around her shoulders. She reached up and playfully linked her fingers with his for a moment.

"You, too. I missed you."

"You good?"

"I am. I'm trying." She smiled. "I'm getting there." She glanced at him as they walked, and she sighed happily. "Are you good?"

"Yeah," Daryl offered with a nod and a little grin. "I am now."


	7. Signs

Signs

"No. No, you're holding your hand wrong," Kelly explained with an amused smile.

"See, Uncle Daryl? It's like this," Judith explained, holding her hand up to demonstrate the sign for woman. Daryl tried again, and Connie grinned from where she was seated watching the lesson take place. Daryl put his hand down when Judith giggled.

"I ain't no good at this."

"You're not bad," Kelly pointed out. She motioned for Connie to come over. "You help him," she signed. "You have more patience than I do." Connie rolled her eyes but shrugged her shoulders and sat down in front of Daryl. Kelly patted Judith on the shoulder.

"Come on, kid. Let's take a recess. Daryl needs extra homework." Judith gave her Uncle Daryl a sympathetic hug and hurried off, while Daryl tried the sign again. Connie shook her head and held her hand up to her chin, making the sign again. Daryl tried again and she nodded.

"Good," she signed. Something behind them got her attention then, and she smiled and waved. Daryl turned to look over his shoulder to see Carol walking toward them. She'd been stopped by Judith and Kelly. Connie tapped Daryl's shoulder to get his attention, and he turned back to her. She made the sign for woman again. And then, she made another sign, this time bringing her hands together, almost in firsts, and moving her thumbs up and down. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her and tried the sign. He shook his head, indicating he didn't know what it meant. Connie smiled.

"What?" he asked, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. Connie pointed to Carol and then to Daryl, and then she made the sign again. "I don't read you."

"S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T-S," she spelled out. Daryl blushed and looked away. She tapped his shoulder again and motioned for him to look at her. She recalled the simple words they'd learned already, and she tried again. "You love Carol." She motioned for him to say something, and his hands twitched nervously on his knees. She signed again. "She loves you."

"How do you know?" he signed back. Connie smiled and put her hand over her chest for a moment. Then she grabbed for her pen and paper. Daryl looked over his shoulder again to see Carol smiling at something Judith was saying. Her nose crinkled when she laughed, and he felt his stomach twist into knots. Connie tapped him again, and he looked at the paper.

"She looks at you like you look at her." She flipped the page. "What's stopping you?" Daryl shook his head. Connie cocked her head to the side. Then, clumsily, he signed back.

"Can't lose her." Connie sighed and shook her head before she signed back to him.

"Doesn't look like she's going anywhere to me."

"Just tell her I love her?" he signed. "Just say it like that?" Connie bit her bottom lip and nodded her head. She gave his shoulder a pat and signed. "Tell her how you feel. Who knows when you'll get another chance?" Daryl narrowed his eyes at her, not quite getting it, and she smiled before writing it down for him. Then she waved again. This time, Daryl felt another hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Carol standing there with a smile. She signed something to Connie, who signed something right back, and Daryl felt like he might swallow his tongue.

"You okay?" Carol asked cheerfully. Daryl stood then, rubbing the back of his neck, and Connie just gave them both a smile and walked off.

"Yeah. I'm good. Uh…you? You good?"

"I'm fine," she laughed. "Today's a good day." She took a deep breath and put her hands on her hips. "Are you sure you ok? You look weird."

"M'fine. Just…can I talk to you?"

"What's up?" Daryl put his hand on Carol's elbow for a moment before tearing it away. He cleared his throat and looked down at the American Sign Language book on the bench by where he'd been sitting. He looked to Carol then and he cleared his throat.

"I just, uh, I just wanted to say…m'glad you stayed. Thought for sure you were gonna be out on that next boat."

"I couldn't go. Not with Alpha back. I had to fight. You know that."

"I know. Just…after, I meant. Thought you'd go as soon as it was done. Ya didn't."

"I didn't," she offered.

"Why?"

"Why?" she asked. "Because it's time I stop leaving my best friend behind."

"Best friend." The words were thick on his tongue, and Carol squinted into the sunlight.

"It's who you are. It's who you've been since the farm." She reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. She saw his lips twitch and she saw the questions in his eyes, and she waited.

"That's all we are?"

"What?"

"Best friends. That's all we're gonna be?"

"Daryl?"

"Ah, I don't know what I'm sayin'. Christ, just forget it." He turned then, and he heard a laugh fall from her lips.

"I love you too, Pookie." He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to face her again.

"Wh…what?"

"I saw you talking to Connie on my way over here. You're not the only one that's learning." She pulled an American Sign Language book from her own back pocket. Daryl's face turned about every shade possible, and Carol took a couple steps toward him. "You do love me, right?" He nodded then, mouth falling open.

"I…'course I love you. Have for a long time. Just didn't…didn't wanna scare you off."

"I'm not going anywhere," Carol promised, taking another step closer to him. "I'm done running. I know where I want to be. I know who I want to be. The only time I feel like myself is when I'm with you." Carol gave him a smile, and before she knew what was happening, he pulled her into his arms and picked her up off the ground. She laughed then, and he held her so close. And then when her feet were back on the ground, she took the chance to press her lips against his. To her delight, he kissed her right back. When they broke apart, Carol slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. "Come on. Let's pick this up at home." Daryl's face flushed again, and Carol grinned. He leaned in, whispering just loud enough for him to hear. "We've got a lot of lost time to make up for." It was all he needed. He squeezed her hand and took off toward the house. She almost had to jog to keep up with him.

As they walked, Carol met Connie's gaze from across the street, and she put her hand against her mouth, bringing it outward to say "thank you."


	8. Prove It

Prove It

"Let me see," Daryl grunted, kneeling down on the floor in front of Carol's bed at the infirmary.

"I'm fine," she insisted, pushing her fingers through her long, tangled hair. A dark bruise was already forming on her cheek, and the rest of her felt like her face felt. Sore and tender.

"Prove it." His eyes locked on hers, and she held his gaze for a moment before relenting. She knew he'd never let up if she didn't show him. She lifted her shirt just above her navel to show the now-sewn gash that almost mirrored her scar from years ago, the one Morgan had sewn up.

"Siddiq did a good job," Carol insisted, pulling her shirt back down. Daryl's gaze snapped back up to hers, and this time, there was fire in his eyes. He stood then, and his boots were heavy on the floorboards when he began to pace. "Daryl?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"What?"

"Why'd you go chargin' in there? You tryin' to kill yourself? Is that what that was?"

"Daryl, you know what that was," Carol bit out. The tears welled in her eyes, and Daryl stopped.

"You tryin' to die?"

"No." She sniffled, shaking her head.

"The woman's fuckin' nuts," Daryl barked. "The things she's done…she coulda killed you!"

"Why…are you…Daryl, are you mad at me?"

"Would be if it would do any goddamned good!" Carol watched as he balled up his fists like he wanted to punch the wall, and when he turned his back to her, his shoulders fell, and Carol's lower lip trembled. "You're always leavin'."

"What?"

"You leave. Ya nearly died on me at the prison. You tried to leave back at the church, before we went after Beth. Then you left Alexandria, damn near got yourself killed as Morgan told it. And then ya left the Kingdom, didn't want nobody to find ya. Then when it was over, ya went back to the Kingdom. Ya went to him. Then when ya finally came home, ya left again and went out on that boat. Now you're back, and ya say you're fine, but the first chance you get, you go for the kill, not thinkin' you might be gettin' killed yourself."

"Daryl."

"I ain't finished." He turned then, and he looked at her. "You keep leavin' me. I can't do it no more." Carol sniffled then and wiped at the tears that were falling freely now. In that instant, he felt like the world's biggest asshole, which was a fair possibility given the current state of the world. "Fuck. M'sorry."

"No." She shook her head. "Come sit down." He did as she asked, sitting just inches from her on the side of the bed. "You're being honest."

"You're right. I've made a habit of running from everything, including myself. But if we're being fair, what happened at the prison wasn't exactly my fault. I mean, somebody else let the walkers in the prison." She got a little laugh out of him, and she bumped his shoulder with his own. "When Rick left me out there, the first thing I wanted to do was to come right back and explain myself, but what good would that have done?" She took a ragged breath. "And after Terminus, I wasn't sure where I stood. I heard Rick asking if you could all join me, and I was glad about that, but at the same time, I felt like I was still apart from everything. And then we went to Alexandria, and I turned into someone I didn't recognize. So I tried to make some kind of life for myself there. Even at The Kingdom, I tried to be who I thought I was supposed to be. And it didn't work out." She looked down at her hands. "Obviously."

Daryl turned his face toward hers, and she gave him a sad smile.

"So ya weren't runnin' from me."

"Actually, I think I was." Daryl felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "You know me better than I know myself. Everything gets so jumbled, and I try to adapt, and you're the only one that makes me feel grounded, and after everything, I was terrified of turning into someone that even you couldn't recognize."

"Why?" He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling his neck and ears grow hot. He blinked back the sting in his eyes and tried to understand what she was saying to him.

"I don't know," she sniffled. "I guess I was afraid of losing you. I've lost a lot. If I lost you, I couldn't make it." She shook her head. "And the only thing that scares me more than that is you walking away. So I did. I left so I didn't have to watch you do it."

"That ain't never gonna happen." He reached for her hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Nothin' could ever make me walk away from you. You're the reason I'm here now, fightin'. I'd leave with ya tomorrow if you really wanted to."

"Daryl…"

"Look, I almost lost you tonight. That can't happen again."

"It's the world we live in."

"Ya know what I mean. You chargin' in there, ready to kill or be killed? I can't lose you. I can't." Carol sighed softly then, and she nodded.

"I'm sorry."

"When you fell, I thought you was gone." Carol sniffled then, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. She winced where the stitches pulled in her side, but she kept holding onto him.

"I'm right here," she promised. "I'm here."

"You're my best friend."

"I know. You're my best friend, too," she sniffled.

"And as your best friend, I think I can finally tell ya that watchin' you leave on that boat the first time was the hardest thing I ever did. I wanted to jump in after ya, but I knew ya had to go. As your best friend, I gotta tell you somethin'. I been hangin' onto it for a long time, not sure how to deal with it, and then I thought it was too late. And maybe it still is."

"What are you…"

"I love you." Carol's eyes went wide, and she bit her bottom lip as the tears began to fall again. "And I didn't wanna almost lose ya again without you knowin'. And it don't even matter if ya don't feel the same way 'cause it ain't gonna change nothin'. You're still my best friend, and I…"

"Of course it…it changes things," Carol interrupted. "Because this…" She motioned between them. "This isn't enough for me anymore. I need more. I want more. And I can't go another day without…" His lips were on hers in a heartbeat, and she gasped against his mouth, smiling against his lips as her warm tears slid down her cheeks. When she pulled back, she felt his hand against her cheek, thumb wiping at her tears.

"You ever wanna leave? You tell me, and I'll be right there. 'Cause what we got here? In Alexandria? We can have it anywhere we go."

"As long as we're together, right?" she asked with a smile. He nodded then, kissing her again. "Good. Right here with you? This is where I wanna be."


	9. Negan

Negan had little to do these days aside from tending gardens under armed guard and observing the goings on as he did said gardening work. On this particular day, he observed Daryl walking across Alexandria with Carol, a woman he'd been told had bigger balls than all the men left in the world combined. And he believed it. The way she carried herself and handled her weapon told him all he needed to know. She'd rip a man's heart out and feed it to him for breakfast if he dared hurt somebody she loved. Negan figured it was for the best that he hadn't had the pleasure of making her acquaintance.

He watched they stop near the windmill, heads bowed in quiet conversation. He watched Daryl's hand reach out and gently brush against hers. That was a first. He was pretty sure he'd never seen Daryl Dixon relate to anybody, male or female in that way.

Carol lifted her head then, and she cocked her head to the side with a little smile. And much to Negan's surprise, Daryl pulled her into a hug, stroking the back of her head as they clutched each other. When they broke apart, Carol walked off, while Daryl made his way toward the school house where Dog was playing with the kids. As he walked by, he said nothing, and Negan just couldn't have that.

"So, Daryl's got himself a girlfriend, huh?"

"Shut up, Negan." Negan's armed guard of the day was some pre-pubescent kid visiting from the Hilltop.

"She's hot. All tiny and petite, looking all innocent. But she'd rip your dick off and wrap it up in a bow if you did her wrong, huh?"

"Why don't you get back to work?" Daryl asked, stopping and turning to look at him.

"I'm surprised. Didn't think you had it in you. She was the one putting it to the King all them years, right? What's it like havin' Zeke's leftovers?"

"You shut the fuck up about her," Daryl growled. Negan grinned wider.

"Oh, maybe you haven't had it yet. That the problem? That why you're wound up so tight? Take it from me, man, I've spent enough time in solitary to know that you gotta wax the whistle once in a while. You know what I'm sayin'."

"Take a break," Daryl barked at the kid. The boy jumped but quickly handed his rifle to Daryl, who took two steps toward Negan. "Get back to work."

"What's the hold up? You givin' her her space since her kid just got his head lopped off? Or can you not…you know? Talk to the doc. I'm sure he could get you a little blue pill for that problem."

Daryl clenched his jaw tightly, and Negan turned to pull some weeds around the cucumber plants.

"I'm tellin' you, Daryl. You're wound tighter than a clock. Go get you some. Put the moves on her, and she'd be putty in your hands." Negan grinned wider. "Better move fast before somebody else gets a piece of that." That was the last straw. Daryl swung the rifle around, popping Negan right in the face, sending him flying back on his ass. Negan spat blood down into the dirt, and Daryl knelt down, poking the barrel of the rifle in Negan's chest.

"I told you to shut the fuck up about her. No unless you wanna spend the next year without work privileges, I suggest ya get back to work and shut your goddamned mouth." Negan wiped his bloody lip with the back of his hand and spat again, turning to keep working the garden. Still, through the blood, he couldn't help but grin. Hell, he had to entertain himself somehow. And what better way than getting under Daryl's skin?


	10. Better

Better

The cool morning breeze ruffled the curtains, rousing Carol from her sleep. She yawned and began to stretch when she felt the weight of Daryl's arm over her bare middle. She smiled then, cracking one eye open and turning her head to see Daryl's face half-buried in his pillow, hair spilling into his face. She gently pulled his arm up and off of her and rolled onto her side. She settled back against her pillow, smiling as she watched him sleep.

She brushed the hair out of his face and bit her lip to stifle a laugh. Her body ached in all the best possible ways, and her heart felt lighter than ever. Waking with a smile was the best thing she could have hoped for after everything they'd been through.

The sunlight was beginning to creep across the floor, and Carol gently pulled the sheet up over both of them. She watched the way his fingers twitched and his eyes moved beneath his lids. But he didn't wake.

These were the kinds of mornings she lived for. For the first time in her entire life, she woke without any worries or any insecurities.

She'd convinced herself that she loved Ezekiel, had played the part until she began to believe it. It had all been for Henry, to give him something resembling a family, and for a while, it truly had felt like it. And Ezekiel had been good to her to the extent that he knew how to be. He still hadn't known her. She only let him know what she wanted him to know, what needed to be known, and for a while, it had been enough.

In those mornings after, however, she'd lay there staring at the ceiling hating herself just a little for forcing herself into yet another part that didn't quite fit her. She never felt comfortable. He never quite understood her scars or the way she'd react when he'd touch her in a certain way. He knew Ed had abused her, but she'd only spoken about it once and then never again.

There had been mornings when he wouldn't look at her, and she knew it was because he didn't know what to say or if he'd gone too far. And she'd find herself reassuring him while her own heart broke a little. A year after she'd put the ring on, she'd begun to realize she'd made yet another mistake, putting everybody ahead of herself only to hurt herself even more.

Daryl had surprised her. He'd been cautious and curious, and he hadn't been very experienced at all. The first time had been quick, and he'd been embarrassed, but they'd talked all night, opening up to each other, talking about the hard stuff, the things they were afraid of, the things they wanted.

He'd been a quick study, learning all the areas that made her sigh, that made her moan that made her flinch, and he didn't have to ask her why. He would only kiss her there, letting her body know it was ok to be loved there, ok to be touched and kissed and caressed, and then they'd talk for hours.

It was something she never had with Ezekiel or Ed. There was never any talk. Ezekiel was nothing like Ed. He was passionate and tried to be attentive, but he held back. He always held back. And the intimacy of talking and holding each other came second to his duties to the Kingdom. There was hardly time. And while she couldn't fault him for being a good leader, there was never any fire. She'd found herself faking sleep on many nights just to avoid the awkwardness that came after sex.

With Daryl, she couldn't wait to see his face, to watch the breath return to his lungs, to tell him how good he made her feel. There was something to be said about being with someone who just happened to be her very best friend. The sex was wonderful, but it was the after, the calm, the intimate caresses and whispers that made it so much better. Nothing compared to it, and the only regret she had was that it had taken her this long to be honest with herself, for Daryl to be honest with himself, and for them both to be straight with one another about how they really felt.

When he finally cracked one eye open, the grin widened on her lips, and he couldn't help but smile back. He groaned and stretched and ran his hand over his face.

"What's that smile for?" he asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.

"Mmm, nothing," she whispered. "Just thinking."

"Thinkin' about what?" he asked, stroking his hand over her shoulder and down her back. She shrugged then and kissed his forehead.

"About how much I love you." Daryl's smile faded for a moment, and his cheeks flushed.

"You never said that before," he said quietly. "Why now?"

"Because I'm happy. Finally. Truly." She put her hand against his cheek and brushed her thumb over his bottom lip. "Because of you. Us." He kissed her again, and she sighed against his lips. When he pulled back, he smiled.

"You know I love you too, right?"

"I had a hunch," she grinned, kissing him again. "But it doesn't hurt to be reminded."


	11. Dreams

Disclaimer: I own nothing from The Walking Dead. All characters belong to the creators of the television series and graphic novels.

This drabble is based on potential spoilers and enhanced for Caryl fluff and romance. Oh, and angst.

Dreams

Carol rolled over in bed, reaching to the empty side to find the sheets rumpled but cool. She cracked one eye open to find sunlight flooding into the room. She yawned and stretched and pulled herself out of bed, tugging on the outfit she'd laid out for the day.

The smell of bacon and eggs had her stomach rumbling before she even got down the stairs, and when she reached the kitchen, she took pause long enough to admire Daryl's backside from where he stood cooking at the stove. His sleep pants clung to him in all the right places, while his T-shirt accentuated his strong arms and shoulders. His hair was un-brushed and flat in the back, and Carol blushed at the memory of looking down at him last night as she rode him.

Dog was sitting at attention on the floor, hoping Daryl would drop just one piece. To his delight, Daryl held out a piece of bacon and dropped it, only for the pooch to snap it up with his jaws in mid-air.

"I saw that," Carol teased, opening up the fridge to grab the pitcher of orange juice.

"Mornin'." He turned to look over his shoulder, admiring her ass as she bent down to reach for something else in the fridge. "Lookin' for somethin'?"

"I was going to make toast, but we're out of jam." She shut the refrigerator door and moved to pour three glasses of juice at the table. When she set the pitcher down, she stepped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before resting her ear against his back. She closed her eyes, humming contentedly to herself. Daryl pulled the skillet from the hot burner and turned to face her, bringing his arms around her before dipping down to greet her with a good morning kiss.

"He ain't up yet. Why don't ya run down to the store and get some?" he asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a five dollar bill.

"You sure they're open?" she asked, crinkling her nose at him.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs distracted them both, and Daryl placed a quick peck to Carol's lips before she slipped away toward the door.

"Hey. Where you going, Mom?" Carol turned to see her son sliding into a kitchen chair and reaching for a glass of juice. Her heart surged in her chest, a pang of grief for the briefest moment. She looked to Daryl, who sucked the salt of bacon from his fingers, and then she looked back to Henry.

"What'd you just say?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at the boy.

"Where are you going? You're really leaving Dad to finish the cooking? Do you want him to burn the house down?" Daryl snorted and tossed a dish towel at the boy.

"What am I going to do with you two?" Carol sighed. "I'll be five minutes. Promise." She moved over to give her son a kiss on the cheek before heading back to the door. Daryl caught her hand and leaned over the counter to kiss her once more, before she opened the door and stepped outside.

Carol's eyes flew open, and the pang of grief ripped through her like a crashing wave throwing her under the tide. She sat up, turning the light on next to her bed, looking over to find the place next to her cold and undisturbed. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing back the tears that stung there.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps, and she tore the covers away, slipping out of bed and out the door. A faint light glowed from the room across from hers, and she fought back the urge to run and hide her feelings away like she seemed to do more often than not. Instead, she tapped her knuckles against the door, desperately needing to see his face, to know he wasn't disappointed in her. And when he opened the door, she took a shaking breath.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the tears in her eyes and wishing like hell there was something he could do to take them away.

"Can we talk?" she asked, brushing a tear away. He gave her a nod, and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight and fighting back a sob as his hand curled into her hair. He nuzzled his nose against her ear for a moment before pulling her closer, and in that moment, she wished he'd never let go.


	12. You Ready?

You Ready?

Carol looked up from where she sat on the porch swing with a book in her hands. Daryl cut the engine on his motorcycle and got off, heading up the sidewalk toward the house with his keys jingling in his hand.

"Hey," he offered with a little wave, stepping up onto the porch and walking over to lean against the railing facing the swing.

"Hey yourself," she smiled. "How was work?"

"Good. You ready to go?"

"Go where?"

"You know." He held his hand out to her, and she smiled, lifting her left hand up to curl into his. She glanced down at the handless watch on her wrist, and furrowed her brows. "Daryl? What time is it?"

"Don't you know?" he asked. Her breath caught in her throat, and when she looked back up at him, she smiled.

"I think so."

"You sure you're ready?"

"Yeah," she promised. "You?"

"I been ready. C'mon." He squeezed her hand, and together they stepped off the porch and toward the motorcycle.

Carol sat up in a sweat, gasping and placing her hand against her chest. Her arm ached, and her first instinct was to reach for the pills she kept in her pocket. But she remembered now that she'd dumped them all out in the woods.

The chair by the bed creaked, and Carol looked over to see Daryl sitting forward.

"You're alright. Just a dream," he murmured.

"Just a dream." She sighed then, a sad smile quivering at her lips.

"That's all it is. Just a bad dream."

"No, it was a good dream," she choked out, wiping at her eyes. Daryl studied her face, and she lay back against the pillow. "The good dreams are the ones I don't want to wake up from. But they're the reason I don't want to sleep. I can't…" The sob she had been choking back escaped her throat, and her shoulders shuddered.

Daryl swiftly moved from the chair to the bed, climbing in beside her and pulling his arms around her. She clutched his shirt, crying hot tears against the soft fabric as his strong arms wrapped around her protectively. He rested his chin atop her head, and she sniffled, shuddering against him.

"You can sleep. I'll be right here when ya wake up," he promised. She felt like someone had reached in and broken her heart all over again. It was never going to be enough, but how could she tell him, after everything they'd been through and after all this time that the most painful thing was loving him and realizing she might never have that kind of happiness with him? Everything in this world died and rotted, and the one thing that gave her peace in her dreams was him, loving him, and that was a kind of pain she couldn't bear.

"You'll stay?" she asked, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

"I ain't leavin' you."

"Thank you," she whispered, as they both lay back against the pillows. She rested her head against his chest, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His hand gently stroked up and down her arm and made her feel safe. He'd always made her feel safe, almost since the beginning. He was the one person she knew she could trust with her heart. With a shaking breath, she whispered, "can we talk in the morning?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "In the mornin'. Get some sleep. I ain't gonna leave you." And finally, she slept a dreamless sleep, curled up in the warmth and comfort of his arms.


	13. 10 Hours 15 Minutes

10 Hours 15 Minutes

Ten hours and fifteen minutes. That was how long he'd waited for her to wake up. After Dante had bandaged her arm and Daryl had carried her upstairs, she'd slept like the dead, barely even moving in her sleep. Daryl had sat at her bedside for hours, unable to sleep for fear she'd disappear right in front of him. He kept listening to her even breaths, and when he finally couldn't stand the silence any longer, he'd gone out to sit on the porch around sunrise. He'd sat there and smoked and looked off into the distance past the houses, past the fences, past the trees and into a future where Alpha's blood soaked the soil.

For as lost and exhausted as Carol was, she was right. Alpha had to die. Michonne had been right to stop her, though, because seven people versus Alpha's group and the hundreds of walkers roaming out in the fog wouldn't have been a battle. It would've been a slaughter. But it was coming. It had to come. Alpha had to die to make it right, and while that wasn't exactly the kind of future Rick Grimes envisioned when he spared Negan's life, it was the only future. Alpha couldn't be allowed to live amongst the dead in a world that was trying to stay alive.

When Carol had come downstairs and out onto the porch, he'd simply been glad to see her up and about. He knew she had a lot of healing to do, and when she'd asked him if he believed her, he told her yes, though part of him wondered if she really hadn't been seeing things. She'd mentioned a conversation between them that hadn't even happened. It wasn't her fault. Nobody was sleeping. Carol was fighting it harder than anyone else, but nobody was sleeping. It was easy to get disoriented, confused, lost.

When he'd heard her yelling his name back at that school, his heart almost gave out trying to get to her. She'd wandered off, and he wasn't even sure he'd been fully awake. And the pills weren't helping.

Still, he'd told her he believed her, because he wanted to, and hell, part of him did. Alpha was all about respecting borders, yet skins had been found on their side of the border, and there was no telling how long it had been there. As Alpha had said, they were everywhere, they were watching.

She'd sat down next to him, and for a while they'd said nothing. For a while, they just sat and watched the sleepy community fall into a silent sleep as everyone retired to their homes in exhaustion.

"You should rest," Carol finally spoke, touching his arm. He looked down at her hand against his forearm, and then he looked up at her. "I'll be ok."

"You ain't gonna take them pills again?"

"They're gone," she insisted. "I can't say I don't want them, that I won't want them when it's time to sleep tonight, but they're gone." Daryl nodded then, and he cleared his throat.

"She got to you. I get it. She threw Henry in your face, and you wanted to kill her. Hell, I wanted to kill her."

"Henry's gone. Nothing will change that. I know killing her won't make it better, but she has to die." Her shoulders slumped. "You know, I didn't want another child. Sophia was it for me. She was my baby. And then at the prison, I had to look after Lizzie and Mika, and I started to feel like maybe that was my second chance." She looked away. "Lizzie killed Mika. She wanted her to turn. She wanted her to turn. She thought she understood walkers. She understood them better than people, I guess." She looked at Daryl. "She was going for Judith next, and I knew she couldn't…" She choked back the lump in her throat. "I took her out in a field of flowers and shot her in the back of the head while she was begging me not to be mad at her." Tears slipped down her cheeks, and Daryl turned in his seat to face her. It was the first time she'd mentioned the girls since they'd reunited after Terminus. "In Alexandria, I told Sam a horrible story to scare him into lying to his mother. I thought it was for his own good, for everyone's own good. And I stood at his grave and wondered if what I said to him is part of the reason he's gone."

"Ya can't blame yourself for tryin' to survive, for tryin' to help Sam survive. And with Lizzie, ya said it yourself. She was gonna kill Judith. Ya had to do somethin'."

"Alpha took our friends, took my son and cut their heads off, put them on pikes." She shook her head. "She's a monster. I feel like a monster."

"You ain't nothin' like her. You hear me?"

"I used to have nightmares," she choked out. "After Henry died, I'd dream about Sophia. Sometimes Mika. Sam. Lizzie. And when I would dream about Henry, I kept seeing myself pushing him away. And I'd see him dead, and I just wanted to die with him." She took a deep breath. "Out on the boat, I'd work myself until my fingers bled, and I'd be so tired I'd pass out from exhaustion. And I realized I couldn't remember my dreams. Being back here, I can't stop dreaming."

"You should go. You ain't happy here."

"That's…that's not…" Daryl stood up, and Carol watched him lean against the railing.

"I wanted ya to stay. Shouldn't have talked you outta goin' back. You ain't happy here."

"Daryl," Carol murmured softly, "the dreams started the night of the satellite crash. Only, I realized that next morning that the dreams weren't bad. They were good. I was happy. You were. We were…" She flinched at her revelation, and Daryl turned to look at her. "I took the pills to stay awake, because every time I fell asleep, I would dream about how things should have been. How I wish they'd been." Daryl narrowed his eyes at her.

"So you ain't havin' bad dreams?"

"Not when I'm sleeping. The nightmares happen when I'm awake. The memories. But when I'm asleep, it's an escape. A good one."

"And ya don't like that?"

"I don't like how I feel when I wake up and it's just a dream." She stood then, moving toward him. "Have you ever had a dream that made you so happy that it broke your heart a little when you woke up?" Daryl looked down, remembering back at the prison when he'd dreamt of Carol waking him in his cell, only to wake believing she was dead. That had been the day he'd taken the Cherokee rose to what was supposed to be her grave. He nodded.

"I keep dreaming of what would've happened if I'd made the right choices. And I want that. I do." She looked down at her hand, toying with the bare spot on her wedding finger.

"Maybe you could still have those things," Daryl offered. "You wanna talk about it?"

"I'm still figuring some things out," she offered with a little smile. "But the pills are gone. I just wanted you to know. I'm going to work this out."

"You ain't alone. Ya know that, right? I know what we said back in the woods, before the satellite. You ever wanna leave, just tell me. But you ain't goin' alone." Carol's eyes widened in surprise.

"Daryl…"

"Last night, thought I was gonna lose ya. Felt like back in Atlanta all over again, you gettin' hit by that car. I can't lose ya." Carol brushed away the tears from her eyes, and she sniffled.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "You're stuck with me."

"Good," Daryl chuckled. "I kinda like havin' you around." He nudged her shoulder, and she smiled then. He pulled her into a hug, and she looked skyward, blinking back tears as her smile crumbled and her lip quivered. And when Daryl felt her shoulders shake as she let out a sob, he held her closer, stroking the back of her hair. He knew she had a long journey ahead of her, but he wasn't about to let her go through it alone.


	14. I Got Her

I Got Her

No way in hell was he sleeping. Not after what had just happened with Carol. She'd mentioned a story about his dad that he'd never told her, and she had asked for one more hour of watch. Against his better judgment, he'd agreed, but he was staying close.

He was at a loss as to how to help her. He knew more than anybody what kind of shit she'd gone through since the beginning. When he looked at her, sometimes he forgot about the quiet woman at the quarry camp that barely looked anybody in the eye. Then again, sometimes he forgot who he used to be before he first met her.

He'd never felt love before the world changed. The closest to love he'd ever felt was when he was a small child and his mother would pull him up in the rocking chair and sing him songs. He remembered her kissing his cheek and telling him he was going to do great things and that she was going to make sure of it. Then she died, and his world became nothing but brutality and pain. He remembered the first time she looked him in the eye, way back before even Rick came along, he recognized the pain in her eyes and the way she flinched whenever Ed's voice boomed in her direction.

She had become one of the smartest, most skilled warriors than anybody he'd met since the turn. But with that change had come great loss. She'd lost more than anybody he knew, and she'd started running away from all of it. The loss. The death. People. Him. And the problem was that he loved her more than he knew how to handle, and she kept leaving him. And now she was back, but she wasn't really there. Her mind was on revenge, and her heart was grieving yet another child. She was angry and scared and trying to keep herself from falling asleep. He'd never seen her so broken, and for the first time, it went beyond a comforting hug or a flower in a bottle. Each loss dug deeper, took a greater toll on her, and Daryl was terrified that he was going to lose her for good.

His hands shook, and he looked over to the others in the group who were sleeping or trying to sleep in every corner of the room. He resented that they could rest so still when Carol was reeling and trying desperately to hold on to herself, to keep herself from slipping past the point of no return. She almost had that night. It had taken everything in him to hold her back when Alpha had taunted her. He wanted to kill Alpha himself just to take Carol's pain away. But it wasn't the time. It would come, and he hoped that when it did, Carol would make the choice that she could live with. It was all he cared about. If she turned to him and asked him to do it, he'd pull the trigger and end Alpha in a heartbeat. He didn't care about him. He just didn't want Alpha's blood to be another reason for Carol to leave.

He felt like a selfish asshole. But seeing her leave on that boat so broken and sad and then return with a smile had been all he'd needed to tell her he needed her. He couldn't say the other words he needed to say. Not yet. Not like this. He felt it, and sometimes when she looked at him, he wondered if she felt it too. And a part of him was terrified that if he said it, if he told her how he felt, she'd still leave. And it would be the end of him.

He continued pacing, and he caught a glare from Michonne who lifted her head from where she rested. But her gaze softened when she saw the worry in his face, and she turned to face the wall. He leaned back against the wall by the door, trying to keep himself from going after her. He knew she needed space, and crowding her wasn't going to make things better. She had a lot of shit to work through, and she was stubborn enough to not ask for help. Still, he was going to stay close just in case she did.

What he didn't expect, however, was the scream that echoed down the corridor, waking everybody from their rest.

"Daryl! Help!" Daryl tore open the door and started down the hall to the protests of the five others behind him. Carol wasn't where he'd left her. He froze, looking down the two different halls before him, and he looked for any sign of her. Both corridors were dark, but when he shined his light toward the gymnasium, he saw the door pushed open. His heart caught in his chest, and he heard footsteps running to catch up with him. He took off again, nearly tripping over a stack of old school books, and by the time he reached the end of the hall, he saw her light reflecting off the wall.

"Carol!" he called, not knowing what to expect when he stepped inside. What he found wasn't at all what he expected. She stood there in the middle of a group of fallen walkers. Her right hand was clamped on her left forearm, and she was shaking.

"Jesus, what happened?" he asked, stepping over one of the bodies to get to her. She turned then, blinking in surprise at the sight of him. "Carol? You with me?"

"Yeah. I think so." She nodded and looked down at her arm. Just above where her hand was clamped, a large shard of glass was sticking through the skin.

"Whoa. Hey." Daryl quickly grabbed a rag out of his back pocket and wrapped her arm tightly above the wound. She teetered on her feet for a moment, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw her eyes glaze over. "Hey. Stay with me, alright? Let's get you home."

Michonne and the others came rushing in, and Daryl pulled his arm around Carol's waist.

"You ok?" Michonne asked, before her gaze settled upon Carol's arm.

"She's hurt. Gotta get her to Siddiq."

"I'm ok," Carol promised, before her knees gave out beneath her. Daryl acted quickly, scooping her up on his arms.

"You got her?" Michonne asked, quickly rushing to help support Carol's wounded arm as Daryl caught his balance.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I got her." And he wasn't about to let her go.


	15. Sleep

Sleep

He can't sleep. He doesn't dare to move. She's nestled against his chest, one hand against his stomach with her fingers curled into the seam and tucked in the gaps between the buttons. Her breathing slowed an hour ago, and her sleepy weight is a comforting blanket this cool night.

She moans softly in her sleep, and his arms tighten around her.

The house is quiet; it must be after midnight. His eyes focus on his crossbow in the chair across the room. He'd been sleeping when she came to him for the third time that week, and without words, he'd pulled back the covers and let her slip inside.

Sleeping together was beginning to feel more natural that sleeping alone. Only, he couldn't sleep, because just before she'd let the heavy pull of sleep drag her under, she'd whispered something he never thought he'd hear.

I love you.

He hadn't known what to say or even if he should say anything. He'd just hugged her closer and let her sleep, and maybe she didn't even know she'd said it.

But he knows. He's wide awake, his mind is reeling, and his heart is beating so fast he's sure it'll wake her. And all because she'd said those words he's felt for longer than he can remember.

He closes his eyes, begging for sleep, and she sighs a sleepy sigh against him, and before he finally falls off to sleep, he kisses the top of her head and whispers his own truth against her ear.

"I love you, too."


	16. Brush

Brush

He stopped just outside her door. She’d taken watch for a couple of hours, and he’d just heard her come in and close her bedroom door. Now, he stood there, listening to the sound of her shuffling about her room, followed by a couple of exasperated sighs.

He knocked.

“Carol?”

“It’s open,” she called, much to his surprise. He opened the door to find her pacing with a hair brush in her right hand. She’d let her long hair down, and he could see where the ends were ratted a little. 

“You ok?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re sweatin’. You sure?”

“I’m fine.” She grunted and heaved her hairbrush across the room. It smacked against the wall and fell to the floor with a clatter. “Sorry.”

“What can I do?”

“My arm hurts.” She put her hand over the bandage on her left arm. “Nights like this, I miss my short hair. I’m right handed, but it takes two hands to sort through this mess.” Daryl couldn’t help the little smile that perked up the corner of his mouth. “What?”

“You want some help?”

“What?” Her lips parted at the question, and Daryl moved across the room and bent down to grab her hair brush. He made a gesture with it, and she bit her lip. “You…you don’t mind?”

“C’mere.” He gestured toward her bed, the only place to sit in the room, and she slowly moved toward it. She sat down, and Daryl sat down next to her. “Turn that way.” She turned her back toward him, and he gently began to work the brush through her hair. She closed her eyes then, sighing as he dragged the brush gently against her scalp. “Tell me if I’m too rough.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she teased. His heart leapt. For a moment, it felt like old times, and he let out a little snort. He gathered her hair up and pulled it all behind her back before continuing, and Carol leaned her head forward, closing her eyes as a little smile played against her lips. 

“Ought to have Siddiq take a look at that if it’s still botherin’ you.”

“It’s just the stitches pulling,” Carol insisted. “It’s fine.” He tugged at a knot in her hair, and she winced when he pulled a little too hard.

“Sorry,” he muttered. 

“It’s ok.” He cleared his throat and kept going, brushing as gently as he could until her hair was untangled. She smiled a little when he brought the brush back up to her scalp and gently dragged it down again. His fingers gently brushed over her ears, tucking her hair behind her ears. She closed her eyes, relishing the touch, even if it was ever-so-brief. When he finally reached around her and put the brush on her night stand, she turned to face him. “Thanks.”

“Hey, you’d do the same for me.”

“I have done the same for you,” she teased. “More than once, if I can recall.” She brought her hand up to push his hair out of his eyes. “I think it’s almost time for another haircut.”

“Not ‘til your arm’s all healed,” he insisted.

“Excuses, excuses,” she murmured, getting a smile out of him. 

“Anything else you need help with?”

“Oh, there’s a few things I could think of, but I don’t think either of us have the energy tonight.” She watched his face flush red, and she grinned. “I’m good. Thank you for helping me.” 

“Anytime,” he chuckled, standing up and starting for the door. He paused before he left and turned back toward her, and with as much boldness as he could muster, he decided to test the waters. “Just across the hall if you decide you got any energy.” Carol’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened, and Daryl smirked at her.

“Daryl Dixon, where did _that_ come from?”

“Dunno. Guess you’re rubbin’ off on me.”

“You wish,” she teased, tossing a pillow in his direction.

“G’night,” he laughed, ducking out of the way and out the door before the pillow could hit him. 

“Good night, Pookie.”


	17. No More Fairy Tales

No More Fairy Tales

The temperature had dropped quickly, and Daryl and Carol had taken shelter for the night in a small shed out behind the burnt out shell of an old farmhouse. The rumbling thunder was rushing in a nasty storm, and once they cleared out enough space to put down their sleeping bags, the rain started pummeling down on the rickety wooden roof.

They’d been tracking what they were sure was a Whisperer they’d spotted from the windmill in Alexandria, but whoever it was was smart and good at covering their tracks. So, they’d turned back toward home to let the council know.

He woke sometime in the night to her ragged breaths as she shivered next to him. He rolled to his side, tugging her sleeping bag up over her shoulders, but she was still shaking.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Carol?” She jerked awake, and rolled to her side to face him. 

“Hmm?”

“You ok?”

“I’m fine,” she bit out, though he could practically hear her teeth chattering.

“No you ain’t. You’re freezin’.”

“It’s summer. It can’t be freezing.”

“Well, the temperature dropped a good twenty degrees on us, and you ain’t dressed for it. C’mere.”

“I’m ok,” she promised. “I was just…just dreaming. I’m ok.” 

“Get over here,” he grunted, pulling open the side of his sleeping bag and waiting for her to join him. She did so reluctantly, and he could feel her body trembling as she curled up beside him. He took Carol’s sleeping bag and draped it over the two of them. “Better?”

“Mmm,” she murmured with a nod. Daryl’s arm curled around her shoulders, and she rested her head against his chest. Soon, she wasn’t shivering anymore, but her fingers were absently curling against his shirt. She let out a little sigh, and she looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. He could feel her looking at him, even in the darkness. “Daryl?” her voice was soft, barely a whisper. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever want more?”

“Whaddya mean?” he asked sleepily, gently squeezing her arm. “Ain’t this all there is? Sleepin’, fightin’, survivin’?”

“That’s a choice,” she said quietly. She sat then, reaching for something, and Daryl squinted when she lit the lantern from her pack. He saw her face was flushed pink, and her eyes were searching his with a hundred questions. “Do you ever want more than that? More than just living to see tomorrow?”

“Ain’t thought about it,” he offered uncertainly. Oh, he’d thought about it, but he wasn’t quite sure what she was getting at, and he didn’t want to say too much. He didn’t want to scare her away.” She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Do you ever wonder if maybe you’d said or done one thing differently, things might have turned out…right?”

“Don’t matter.” He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and he suddenly didn’t feel like sleeping. “Shit happens, and ya live with it. If it ain’t right, ya move on.”

“Don’t you have any regrets?”

“Lots of regrets. Lost a lot of people.”

“Damn it, Daryl, I’m not talking about that.” She sighed in frustration, and Daryl felt his heart begin to pound. 

“What do you regret?” he asked her.

“Marrying Ezekiel.” She hadn’t even hesitated. 

“Did you love him?”

“I cared for him,” she admitted. “He was a good father to Henry. Sometimes, I felt like I could love him. And I couldn’t leave Henry.” She shook her head. “I wish I’d done it differently. I made myself a mess I tried to live with, but in the end, I couldn’t stay.” Daryl stared at her then, waiting for her to say more, but she didn’t. Instead, her face fell, and she shook her head. Silence filled the shed, and Carol sighed.

“Rain stopped. We should head home.” She started to gather her things, and suddenly, Daryl realized she’d been waiting for him to speak all along. She’d just opened up about a part of her life that she hadn’t spoken of since Henry died, and now he realized she needed to know where his head was at.

“Shouldn’t have left that night,” he murmured to her back as she packed up her things. She stopped then, peeking over her shoulder at him. 

“What?”

“The night at your house. I lied to ya about Glenn and Abraham, and I don’t regret that. Wanted you safe. But I shoulda stayed.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Don’t know,” he muttered.

“Liar.” She moved back to their little bed of sleeping bags, and a shiver went up Daryl’s spine.

“I was afraid of losin’ you,” he admitted. “Richard was plannin’ on sacrificin’ you to motivate Ezekiel to join the fight against Negan. I couldn’t let you get hurt. And somehow, part of me thought if I stayed, you’d get hurt. I had a lot of shit goin’ on in my head, felt like some of what happened was my fault, and losin’ Glenn almost killed me. If I lost you, if any bit of that was ‘cause of me? I woulda done myself in with my own gun.”

“Daryl.”

“But now? I wish I woulda stayed. Just a little longer. Just to sit with ya. Just to know you were gonna be ok.”

“Just to sit with me?” she grinned. “Is that all?” Daryl blushed. 

“I almost followed you. I fought myself over it. I wanted to hurry after you, because when you walked away, I thought I might never see you again. But then I realized if I came with you, I might still lose you, and it scared the hell out of me.” She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Ezekiel was right.” Daryl furrowed his brows at her. “I was running from love, and in doing so, I ended up making a choice to leave everything behind. Including you. And I hate myself for that. I made a choice to marry the man that made sense at the time. He wasn’t Ed. He was good to Henry, and we both wanted Henry to have something normal in this horrible world. But every night I went to sleep, I dreamed of what I really wanted, and I still…I still dream of it.” She blinked back tears and scooted a little closer to him. “It’s you, Daryl. I dream about you, because I know that it’s always been you. I just couldn’t let myself feel it. I had to pretend.” 

He stared at her for a moment, taking in everything she’d just said. A loud silence blanketed them, and they were locked on each other, frozen in the moment and uncertain where to go, and when the questions in Carol’s eyes turned to doubt, he didn’t want to see that hurt another moment. 

He leaned in and brushed his lips softly against hers. She gasped softly when his hand sought hers and squeezed her fingers. He pulled back then, and he cleared his throat, still holding her hand in his. 

“I don’t want to live the fairy tale anymore,” she whispered. “That’s not real. _This_ is real.” He kissed her again, and she whimpered softly against his mouth, shivering when his arms pulled around her waist and tugged her into his lap. When he pulled back again, she chased his mouth with her own, seeking the warmth and softness of his touch, chasing that moment she’d longed for, the one that came with that soul-searing heart-pounding confirmation that this was the right choice she should have made a long time ago.

His hands shook as she melted into his kiss, and he brought them up to frame her face. She pulled back then, her lips swollen from his kiss, her eyes sparkling in the dim light from the lantern. It felt so natural, holding her, kissing her. Suddenly, every word and doubt he’d hammered into his own head over the years about his feelings for her, about how she’d never love him like he loved her, felt insignificant and strange. This was right. This was the only thing that felt right in this world. _She_ was the only thing that felt right. And in that moment, as they held each other, Daryl realized that for the time since the world had fallen apart, he couldn’t wait for tomorrow. They had each other, and that was all they needed to survive. 


	18. Enough

_When he lifted his shirt over his head, his muscles strained and ached. He groaned, tugging his pants down and tossed him into the laundry basket by his closet door. The shower had been running long enough to warm up, and by the time he opened the glass door and stepped inside, a nice steam wrapped around him, kissing his skin as he lathered up with his soap and wash cloth._

_It was late. Gabriel had just replaced him on watch duty over the prisoner, and he’d crept into the house as quietly as he could so he didn’t wake his housemates. _

_He ached everywhere. His neck ached when he pressed his hands against the shower wall and ducked his head under the spray. His legs felt sore enough to collapse under him. He was exhausted and ready to sleep, something he rarely did these days. He was too tense, too worried something would happen to her when he wasn’t looking. And if that happened, he knew he couldn’t survive it._

_He ran his fingers through his hair before squeezing a sizeable dollop of shampoo into his palm. He massaged his scalp and squeezed his eyes shut from the soapy sting as swirls of dirt washed down the drain._

_When he was finished, he started to reach for the faucet knob, only to feel the rush of cool air when the door swung open. In moments, he felt cool hands against his arms, followed by the soft warmth of her bare breasts against his back. He felt her lips press between his shoulder blades._

_“You still mad, Pookie?” she asked softly. Daryl sighed and she let go of him long enough for him to turn to face her. The water blasted against his back, and he pulled her into his arms, staring down into her beautiful blue eyes._

_“I ain’t mad,” he grumbled. “Just worried you’re gonna get yourself hurt.”_

_“I can take care of myself,” she promised. “I learned from the best.” She smiled then, standing on her tiptoes to press a soft kiss against his lips. “You’re really not mad?”_

_“Ain’t mad. Can’t say I can speak for Michonne when she gets back.”_

_“I can handle Michonne,” Carol sighed. Daryl brushed his fingers through Carol’s long, silver hair, and he bent down to taste her lips again. She smiled against his lips, and he tugged at her hips, pulling her back under the stream and letting the world slip away around them._

Daryl’s eyes flew open at the tap of a hand on his shoulder. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his crossbow across his lap in the dark jail. The prisoner was quiet, sleeping with his back toward Daryl.

“Shift’s up.” Her voice was soft, and when he looked up at her, she gave him a tense smile. “You should go home.”

“Ain’t leavin’ you alone with him,” Daryl grunted, rubbing his tired eyes as the last moments of his dream began to fade away to wherever dreams go when they’re gone.

“Gabriel’s coming down in an hour.”

“One more hour then.” Daryl sat up straight, and Carol huffed out a sigh.

“I’ll stay with you then.” She scraped a chair across the cement, and the prisoner stirred in the cell. She sat down next to Daryl and passed a glance in his direction. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“You gotta stop,” he said quietly. “I get it. I know you want her dead. So do I. But you gotta stop ‘fore you get hurt. Or worse.”

“I know what I’m doing.” She looked down at her hands. “You don’t have to worry. Just…don’t be mad.” The softness in her voice made him look at her. She met his gaze before quickly looking away, and her shoulders slumped. He knew she was going through something he couldn’t understand, and he hated that everything was so uncertain.

“I ain’t mad.” His voice was soft now, and he put his crossbow down on the floor. “Just can’t lose you.” Carol looked up quickly, her eyes widening just enough that he could see the tears glittering there. 

“I’m still here,” she promised, reaching over and putting her hand over his. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. 

“Daryl.” He looked at her. “I’m done running. I’m not going anywhere. When this is over with Alpha, this is where I want to be.” Daryl looked around, and Carol chuckled. “Ok, maybe not _here_. Just…with you.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Running never got me anywhere but alone.”

“Can’t hide out forever by yourself,” he said with a little chuckle, echoing their earlier conversation in the woods. A smile tugged at Carol’s lips. 

“You were listening.”

“’Course I was. Always listen when it’s you doin’ the talkin’.” Carol blushed then, nudging his shoulder with her own. Daryl slumped down in his chair then, and Carol sighed.

“We make a good team,” Carol offered with a smile. She got up then, and she started for the door.

“Hey. Where you goin’?”

“If you’re staying, I might as well take advantage of an extra hour of sleep.”

“You ain’t tryin’ to stay awake anymore?”

“Hmm.” Carol shrugged a little. “Sometimes the good dreams are worth the hurt.” Daryl furrowed his brows at her, and she started to walk away.

“We’re enough.”

“What?” She turned to meet his gaze.

“What you said out there. You and me? We’re enough.” A teary smile painted Carol’s face, and Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat while his heart raced beneath his chest.

“Yeah,” she whispered in agreement. “We are.”


	19. The Cabin

“Would ya stop frettin’?” Daryl Dixon looked over at Carol as they walked side-by-side by the river. The pikes that once marked Alpha’s border had long since fallen and been overtaken by foliage. He shifted his crossbow on his shoulder and kicked a stone out of their path. 

“I just don’t understand why we didn’t take a horse on a supply run,” Carol pointed out, fiddling with the strap of her own bow. 

“It ain’t far. We ain’t gonna need it.”

“What if we come across a herd.”

“Would ya trust me?” Daryl asked with a huff. This brought a grin to Carol’s lips.

“Of course I trust you. I just hate leaving Judith and RJ.”

“They’re fine. Lydia’s watchin’ ‘em. And everybody knows Judith can take down a whole herd on her own if she had to.”

“RJ’s been having nightmares since Michonne left,” Carol said softly. “What if we’re not back by bedtime? He likes me to read…”

“_Alice in Wonderland_. I know. Told Lydia where to find the book.”

“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” Carol asked with a little laugh. She reached up to tuck a stray strand of her long, silver hair behind her ear. Daryl motioned toward a little footbridge. Carol eyed him. “Is it safe?”

“C’mon.” He started across, and Carol hurried after him, and once they stepped off the other side, Carol noticed a path leading out from the trees. Daryl started that way, and Carol quickly followed after him. The warm spring breeze carried the heavy scent of rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Carol glanced at Daryl, who had a smug little grin on his face. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Okay, you’re up to something.” Daryl held his hands up.

“You got me,” he said with a smirk. As they reached the end of the path, a small cabin came into view. Carol’s eyes widened, and as she looked around, she noticed the sturdy fence around the property, the swing on the porch and the little flowers planted around the porch. 

“What’s this?”

“Figured you could use a night away. You been so busy with the kids, and we both been helpin’ clean up the mess Alpha made. We ain’t had much time. We ain’t had _enough_ time.” Carol watched the blush fill his cheeks, and she bit her bottom lip.

“You did all this?”

“Lydia helped me,” he admitted. “And Aaron helped me with the repairs.”

“When did you have the time to do all this?”

“I got my ways,” Daryl replied. “You gonna just stand here starin’ or are ya gonna check it out?” Carol’s nose crinkled as the grin spread on her face, and she hurried up toward the gate. They stepped inside, and Daryl locked up. He watched her hurry up to the house and admire the pretty flowers planted all around. And then her hand was on the porch swing, rocking it back and forth gently. Daryl stepped up on the porch, and he put a hand against the small of Carol’s back before opening up the front door. Carol glanced up at him and then took a step in.

She gasped softly when she saw what he’d done with the place. It looked like a home. The living room was cozy with a couch and a couple of chairs. There was even a coffee table and a book shelf. In the corner was a small table with a stack of jigsaw puzzles waiting to be put together.

“Daryl, this is wonderful,” she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He gave hers a squeeze and nuzzled his nose against her ear.

“Wait’ll you see the bedroom.” It was her turn to blush, and she turned to wrap her arms around his neck. She sighed softly, licking her lips, and then she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Best part of the house if ya ask me. Put a lot of thought into it.”

“Oh, I’ll bet,” she laughed. “You did all of this for me?”

“Did it for us,” he murmured. “Figure it’s time we get to enjoyin’ what time we got left. Seems like it’s just been one fight after another. Maybe we can stop now.” 

“I like that idea,” Carol murmured, kissing him again. When she pulled back, he took her hand and led her to the back of the cabin where a four post bed and a fireplace waited for them in a small bedroom. Carol sighed and flopped down on the bed, moaning softly as she sunk into the soft mattress. “Oh _God_, this feels good.”

“You startin’ without me?” Daryl asked with a snort, getting a laugh out of Carol. He flopped down beside her on the bed and lay back looking at the ceiling. It felt better than good. Hell, this bed was more comfortable than what they had back in Alexandria, and Daryl briefly pondered how to get this back home before Carol interrupted him by climbing on top of him. He chuckled, grabbing her hips in his hands, and he watched as she smiled down at him. 

“I love it, Daryl.” She leaned down to kiss him. “I love you.” He smiled against her lips.

“Love you, too.”


	20. Bonds

Bonds

Daryl kicked off his boots, and they landed in the corner with a heavy thud. Dog barely looked up from where he was sleepily curled up under the table. The couch looked messy from last night’s sleep but inviting to Daryl’s weary bones. Six hours tracking Lydia through the woods had ended in success, and while it had taken much coaxing from him and from Carol, the girl had agreed to return to Alexandria. She’d taken it upon herself to return to the jail, but at least she was home. It was a start.

Daryl pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, pressing back against the beginnings of a headache. His chest felt heavy. He knew why. 

He hated the distance between them. Carol had come to him, panicked about Lydia running off, and his own fears and frustrations had led him to snap at her about doing exactly what he’d asked her not to do. But he wasn’t angry. He was terrified, and he’d finally told her. He’d finally told her that he was afraid he was losing her, that she was slipping away from him at every turn and that she was so hell bent on revenge that she didn’t care if she lived or died.

It had been an eye opening moment for both of them, and his first instinct was to apologize, but instead, he’d kept his mouth shut. It was the truth. He was terrified of losing her. He knew she was hurting, that losing Henry had added just one more crack into her already shattered heart. But for Daryl, the idea of losing her was slowly killing him. He knew if she was gone, he might as well go with her, because she was the only one that knew him, the only one he’d ever dared to let close enough to see into the hell that was his past. Because he knew she knew.

And tonight, he’d watched the tears fall from her eyes, and he’d taken her in her arms and smoothed his hand over her hair, and he’d felt her shoulders shake against his as she cried. She’d whispered her ‘I’m sorry’ against his shoulder, and he’d held her closer, and he’d wanted more than anything to take her pain away. 

When they’d gotten back to Alexandria with a weary and confused Lydia, Carol had said nothing. Instead, she’d gone up to her room, and Daryl wasn’t quite sure where they stood. He hated the idea of her even thinking he was angry with her. He’d never been good with words, but he hoped she knew that he’d always look at her and know her heart was in the right place, that no matter how far she strayed, he’d always be there when she came back.

He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair. He started reaching for his belt, when he heard the soft tap of knuckles against his door. His first instinct was to cover up, to hide the scars from the world, but when he heard her voice, he paused.

“It’s me.” He was already crossing the room before her voice left his ears, and when he opened the door, he saw her standing there, hair disheveled, eyes watery, nose pink. Her lower lip trembled, and Daryl reached for her, pulling her into a hug, relishing in the warmth of her against his bare chest. She sighed, burying her face against his neck, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, praying she wasn’t going to leave again. Every time her world fell apart, she left. And maybe it hadn’t fallen apart tonight, but she’d certainly been reminded of all she’d lost.

Her hands trembled against his back as she held him, and when he felt her begin to pull away, he reluctantly let go. They stood there, staring at each other in the door frame, and he wasn’t sure if she was leaving or staying. He turned then, letting her make the call, and when he heard the door shut, his shoulders slumped, and then he felt her hands ghosting over the ridged scars on his back. Her breath hit him between the shoulder blades, and he felt her soft, cool lips press there. She wrapped her arms around him then, resting her hands against his stomach, and he placed his hands over hers. 

“I was going to go back to Oceanside,” she whispered. “I was going to get on the next boat and get as far from here as I could.” Daryl hung his head then, closing his eyes when her arms tightened around him. “I can’t keep running. And you can’t keep hiding.” She let go of him, and he turned to face her. He dragged his gaze up to meet hers, and she smiled weakly at him. “Not anymore. Not from us.” 

The words caught between their lips as Daryl kissed her before she could take a breath. She moaned softly against his lips, and almost as quickly as he’d kissed her, he pulled back. His shoulders shook with his ragged breaths, and Carol reached out for his hand. 

“It’s ok,” she whispered. “I’m here.” She brought her hand to his face, and he brought his hand over hers, nuzzling her palm before placing a kiss there. She shivered and bit her bottom lip, and when Daryl’s gaze met hers again, she brought her hand up to push the hair away from his eyes. “We can talk about it in the morning.” And his lips were on hers again, his hands gripping her waist and dragging her backward toward the couch. He fell backward then, and she landed on top of him, and he stared up at her in stunned surprise and his own actions. She smiled down at him then, her silver hair falling down her shoulders and tickling Daryl’s chest.

He looked up at her, watching the way the flush filled her cheeks, the way her nose crinkled when she grinned at him, and as her hands moved over the various scars that married his sides and chest, she looked at him with nothing but love. For the first time in his fifty years of life, he knew he didn’t have to hide them from her. He knew she carried scars, too, some so painful they were buried deep in her heart. They had both been broken too many times to count, but together, in this moment, they both began to heal. 


	21. Coffee

Coffee

Something was tickling her foot. It was the first thing she became aware of as the darkness of sleep faded into consciousness. The room was cool, and her skin prickled with goose bumps. And her foot still tickled. And now it was wet. She let out a little giggle and pulled her knee up to get her foot away from the annoyance. When she finally cracked one eye open, she looked down to find Dog sitting at the side of the couch, one ear pricked up as he cocked his head to the side. 

It was then that she realized she hadn’t slept in her room last night. 

She was alone, and the sheets at her side were cool. When she rolled to her back, muscles she hadn’t used in quite some time ached. She smiled a little, pulling the rough, pink sheet up over her bare skin. 

“Where is he, boy?” she asked, sitting up and running her fingers through her tangled, silver locks. “Hmm?” She got to her feet, letting the sheet fall to the floor and pool around her feet. And she looked up just as she heard his footsteps on the stairs. Moments later, he appeared in the doorway, as naked as she was, and Carol’s first instinct was to reach for the sheet. But then she remembered RJ and Judith had stayed with Gracie and Aaron the night before.

She remembered all the things Daryl had done to her with that skilled tongue and glorious cock, and she suddenly felt confident and stood there, looking at him as he stood in the doorway with a cup of coffee in each hand. His shoulders hunched a little, and the morning light filtering through the blinds slid over the scars on his chest and stomach in a comforting warmth. The sight of Daryl Dixon standing naked as the day he was born was one she was certain she could certainly get used to.

“Morning,” he managed to stutter, his gaze falling from her eyes to her bare breasts and then to the apex of her thighs. 

“It is,” she teased, letting her gaze wander over the sight of him. 

“Coffee?”

“Hmm, is it hot?”

“Yeah, a little,” he offered, holding the cup out to her. She smiled, taking the steaming mug in her hand. She blew over it as the hot steam kissed her face, and she set it aside, reaching for his.

“A little too hot,” she whispered, putting his mug to the side with hers. “They need to cool off.”

“They do?” he asked, nearly choking on his own tongue as Carol slid her warm hands up his arms and over his shoulders.

“Mmm. About fifteen minutes should do the trick. You know something we could do in fifteen minutes?” 

“I…could think of a couple things,” he stammered, as Carol teased the shell of his ear with her tongue. His arms snaked around her waist then, and he walked her backward toward the couch. She giggled when they flopped down together, and his hand wandered down her belly and between her legs. She loved how awkward and nervous he was until she was in his arms. Then, with his enthusiasm and her patience, he’d explore her body and learn the things that made her sigh and gasp and moan. Once he got going, he was utterly insatiable. 

“Just a couple?” she asked, reaching down and circling her fingers around his erection. “I beg to differ.” He grinned then, bridging the gap between them and crushing his lips to hers in a hungry kiss.


	22. Waffles

Waffles

“If I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away!” Carol growled, kicking one of Daryl’s boots off the floor by the stairs that led down to his basement room. Daryl stepped out of the kitchen and into the hall where he was mixing batter in a bowl.

“What’d ya say?”

“Never mind,” Carol muttered through gritted teeth. Daryl furrowed his brows.

“You ok?”

“This house is too damn crowded. There’s smiley face drawings hanging up on the fridge, there’s dog toys scattered everywhere. Dog chewed up one of my favorite boots. And _some_ of us are just as bad as Judith and RJ at leaving things laying around for people to trip on.” She narrowed her eyes at Daryl, and he stared at her for the longest moment. Then a little grin twitched at his lip. “What are you smiling at?”

“You like it.”

“What?”

“You like the crowd and the mess. You like it, ‘cause it feels like home.”

“Home?” Carol asked. “I don’t even know what home’s supposed to feel like anymore.” She folded her arms across her chest, but Daryl just looked at her with that goofy, lopsided grin.

“I _never_ knew what it felt like ‘til you came back,” he said softly. “You, me, Michonne, the kids? It’s crazy and crowded, but it’s the best home I ever had.” Carol couldn’t help the little grin that pulled at her lips. The man had a point. For the first time since Sophia was little, she truly did feel at home here. While she was still mourning and grieving, the daily chaos that usually started before breakfast always made things feel normal. And with Daryl there, she could just look at him, take a deep breath and realize that everything was working out the way it was supposed to. He was her port in the storm. _He_ was her home. 

“Home,” she said with a little smile. Daryl nodded toward the kitchen, beckoning her to join him.

“C’mon. I’ll make you some waffles.”


	23. Waiting to Die

Waiting to Die

“Can you shut up for five minutes, please?” Carol covered her face with her hands and leaned her head back against the cave wall. She took a shaking breath and slowly let her hands fall. “I’m sorry.”

“There you go again,” Daryl grumbled. 

“I’m _am_ sorry! If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t be trapped in this place,” Carol choked out. Daryl turned his head and stared at her. For the past fifteen minutes, he’d been giving her hell about her choices and her vendetta against Alpha. He knew he’d hit a few sore spots when she’d snapped at him. He was pretty sure she’d never told him to shut up in all the years he’d known her, but now the wall she’d built up around herself over the past few months was beginning to crumble. 

“Don’t.” 

“Daryl…”

“No. You wanted to go alone. I wouldn’t let ya. I told everybody to follow and get you out. I’m just as much to blame as you are.” Carol shook her head, and she blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“I don’t know who I am anymore, Daryl. The only time I feel like me is when I’m with you, and then sometimes you look at me like you’re afraid I’m going to run.”

“Are you?”

“You think I’m going to run anywhere in here?” Carol asked, looking around the place. Daryl nudged her shoulder. “She has to die, Daryl.”

“She will,” he promised. “But you gotta stop. You gotta stop chasin’ her. Let her come to you. Even then? I don’t want it to be you.”

“It should be me. He was my son.” The words were barely a whisper, and Daryl reached over, brushing a single tear from Carol’s cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“And killin’ her won’t do a damn thing to bring him back. You’re playin’ right into her hands, and ya can’t even see it.” He shook his head and leaned back against the wall, listening to the echoes of the others’ voices as they explored the area in search of an escape. “I lost you years ago, ‘cause I was to damn scared to tell ya how much ya mean to me. Then it was too late.” 

“Too late?” Carol asked softly, wiping at her eyes and turning her face toward him.

“And then Henry died, and ya just left again. And a part of me thought maybe that time away would bring back my best friend. Seein’ ya come off that boat was the happiest I been in years. But the second we were out in those woods, I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“You came back to die.” Carol flinched. “You don’t give a shit about yourself anymore.”

“Daryl,” she choked out. 

“I can’t watch ya do this to yourself. You think it’s easy for me, seein’ you runnin’ after her, knowin’ ya don’t expect to come back? And I don’t know what to say. You’re my best friend. You’re the only person who’s ever understood anything about me. Do ya know how goddamn hard it is to watch the woman you love just…waitin’ to die?” 

“Daryl, I don’t want to…” She took a deep breath as the full weight of his words came crashing down on her. “What did you…”

“You don’t wanna die? You got a damn funny way of showin’ it.”

“Daryl. What did you say?”

“I said ya got a damn funny way of…” She kissed him then, gently framing his face with her hands, her soft lips moving against his chapped ones, her pink nose bumping against his before he jerked in surprise. He didn’t pull back. His fingers curled around her wrist, bringing her hand to rest on his chest. And then _she _pulled back, the stunned look on her face mirroring his. 

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered. “I just want to stop hurting.” She rested her forehead against his.

“We’re gonna get outta here,” Daryl promised. “And when we do, I promise you we’ll make her pay for what she did. I just gotta know you’re gonna be ok. I can’t lose ya. Not again.”

“You won’t,” she promised. “I’ll try. I’m trying.” He kissed her then, soft and slow, and when he finally pulled away, he found her hand and gave it a squeeze. 

“C’mon. Let’s get outta here.”


	24. Sex Injury

Sex Injury

“You gave me a black eye.” Daryl winced and glanced in the mirror, and Carol covered her hand with her mouth.

“Let me see,” she whispered. Daryl turned from the mirror and came back to the couch. Carol sat up a little and reached out to touch his cheek. He squinted at her, showing the beginning of a pretty good shiner. Carol gasped softly and bit her lip.

“Daryl, I’m so sorry.”

“Ain’t your fault,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m the one who head-butted you. God, I’m so embarrassed.” She pulled the sagging covers up a little. 

“Don’t be,” he snorted. “Was still my fault. Guess we both got a little carried away.” Carol snickered then, and she shrugged. 

“Well, we were making up for a lot of lost time.” She leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to his eye. He winced but didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry.”

“I ain’t. It was worth it,” he grinned. Carol nudged his shoulder, and he pulled his arms around her.

“Well, as sex injuries go, I’ve seen worse,” Carol laughed. Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Don’t ask. You _really_ don’t want to know.” Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. “It was in college. And let’s just say my boyfriend had taken an interest in the Kama Sutra. It did _not_ go well…for him.” Daryl winced then, and Carol grinned. “I warned you.” He cut her off with a kiss, and she grinned against his mouth. He tugged her into his lap, and she sighed happily, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Shoulda took you up on that offer a long time ago,” he murmured between kisses. Carol gently pushed back on his chest and cocked her head to the side with an amused smile.

“What offer?”

“To screw around.”

“What?”

“That first night at the prison. On top of the bus?” Carol’s eyes widened.

“You remember that?”

“’Course I remember that. Thought about it at least twice a day since ya said it,” he chuckled. Carol laughed and kissed him softly.

“Just so you know, I was only half kidding. If you’d taken me seriously, we could have had a pretty good time that night.” She kissed him again and then untangled herself from his lap.

“Where ya going?”

“Upstairs to my room. Michonne and the kids will be up soon.”

“So?” he murmured, standing up and bringing his hands to her hips when the sheet fluttered to the floor. “Stay. We ain’t got nowhere to go.”

“Mmm, I shouldn’t,” she resisted, arching her neck when he began to pepper kisses down the hollow of her throat. “Yeah, I could stay a little longer. That would be good.” Daryl laughed then, pulling her back down onto the couch with him. “After all, we have to come up with a good cover story for that shiner. A PG version, if you will. You know Judith and RJ will ask.”

“I’ll just tell ‘em I fell so hard for you I got a little hurt on the way down.”

“Oh, now that’s bad.”

“Yeah, but they’re kids. It’s good enough, right?”

“Mmm, keep trying,” she laughed, as he tackled her to the couch and quieted her with a hungry kiss.


	25. Chapter 25

Confessions

“I had a dream about you.” The night was dark, and Carol turned from where she sat on the edge of her bed with nothing but the glow of a candle on her nightstand. Daryl stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets, looking every bit as lost as he felt. Her body ached, and the scratches on her hands and arms from the fall into the cave throbbed and burned. 

“What?” Carol squinted into the dim light, and Daryl took a couple of tentative steps into the room. “Daryl?”

“Dreamt we got out of the cave.”

“We did. It wasn’t a dream.”

“I dreamt about you and the King.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t know. Always heard as a kid, ya dream about what you want, but all I ever had was nightmares. This dream? This was a nightmare. It’s the last thing I want.” Carol stood, and she took a shuddering breath. 

“You should go back to sleep. We can talk about it in the morning.”

“In the mornin’, I might not be feelin’ so brave.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You love him?”

“What?”

“The King. You still love him?” Carol took a step toward Daryl, and her gaze fell. 

“It’s late.”

“Just answer the question.”

“I care about him. He’s a good man. But if it wasn’t for Henry, I never would have…” She looked up at him. “No. I don’t love him.”

“That’s the truth?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. Not about that.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“Almost lost you today,” he said quietly. “Thought you was gonna fall, you was gonna pull away and let yourself fall. But you held on tight, and I had you.”

“You had me.” She sniffled. “It’s late, Daryl.”

“I know. But I figure if I don’t say this now, I ain’t gonna work up the nerve to say it again.” He closed Carol’s bedroom door, and her eyes widened. “You made some mistakes. But I have too. Biggest mistake I ever made was leavin’ the night I showed up on your doorstep. I shoulda stayed. I was so hell bent on gettin’ revenge on Negan that I couldn’t let myself…” He swallowed, his confidence faltering. “I shoulda told you the truth.”

“About Glenn and Abraham?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“About me.” Carol let out a soft breath, and Daryl chewed his lip. “I ain’t never felt like this about anybody. Didn’t know what it was I was feelin’ for a long time, but I know it now. Nothin’ feels right if you ain’t here. Walkin’ away from you that night was the worst thing I ever did, ‘cause the next thing I knew, you were with _him_ and I knew I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t,” she sniffled. “Daryl, I’ve been confused for a long time. All I knew was Henry needed me, and yes, I chose to stay with Ezekiel. If I knew then what I know now...” She took another step toward him. “I dream about Henry. Almost every night. And you’re there, too. And we’re happy. Sometimes…sometimes I _just_ dream about you, and I wake up crying, because reality is painful.” The tears began to fall, and she brushed them back. “The only time I feel anything is when I’m with you. And it scares me, because I know I’m not me. I haven’t been. I’m trying. I think I’ve been keeping you at a distance, because you’re the only person that really knows me.” She sniffled, and Daryl reached up to brush her tears away.

“You’re still you. You are. M’sorry for what I said. You ain’t a ghost.”

“I am,” she offered with a dry laugh. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be me again, but I want to be. I want to start over.”

“You can. _We_ can.” Carol smiled through her tears and let out a little sob. “C’mere.” He pulled her in close, cradling the back of her head. “We’re gonna be ok. We will. You’re the only thing that matters to me, and I ain’t gonna let you go through this alone.” 


	26. Bad Words

Bad Words

“Rick Grimes Junior, what did you just say?” Carol stood in the kitchen with one hand on her hips and the other with a piece of broken glass from the cup the boy had just dropped on the floor. He looked up at her with saucer-wide eyes and shook his head. “RJ.” 

Daryl, Judith, Lydia and RJ came rushing in from where they’d been lounging in the living room after supper. 

“Everybody ok?” Daryl asked, getting a perturbed look from Carol in response. “RJ hurt?” He knelt down to make sure the boy wasn’t bleeding. RJ shook his head. 

“What’s going on?” Lydia asked, sensing the tension in the room, while Judith made a beeline for her little brother.

“RJ? What’s wrong?” she asked, putting her arm around her little brother.

“Nothin’,” he muttered.

“Judith, take your brother upstairs to his room, please.” The little girl nodded, and RJ let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, no. We’re having a long talk after you think about what you just said.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy murmured, hanging his head as his sister led him from the room. Daryl stood back up and watched Carol’s shoulders fall as she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

“What the hell was that about?” Lydia asked.

“Hey, watch your mouth,” Daryl scolded. Lydia made a face, and Carol tossed the broken glass in the waste bin.

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Carol snorted.

“What?” Daryl asked. “What’d I say?”

“You want to explain to me why RJ yelled ‘son of a bitch!’ when he dropped his cup?” she asked, an amused smirk playing at her lips. She raised her eyebrows, and Daryl let out a laugh. “It’s not funny!”

“Then why are you tryin’ not to laugh?”

“Well, we can’t let him know we think it’s funny, Daryl. You have to watch what you say in front of them.”

“They’re just words,” Daryl muttered.

“I know they are, but they’re the words you and I got our mouths washed out for saying when we were his age.”

“Want me to grab the soap?” Lydia asked with a wide grin.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Carol sighed. 

“Well, how do ya know he heard it from me?” Daryl asked. Carol pursed her lips together and cocked her head to the side.

“Oh, I don’t know. That’s all I hear every five minutes when you’re working on your bike in the garage. Or when you find out Dog’s chewed up another one of your arrows.”

“She has a point,” Lydia pointed out.

“Hey. I don’t cuss that much. Someone else in this house has a mouth on her, too, and I _ain’t_ talkin’ about Judith.”

“Hey!” Lydia gasped. 

“Ain’t talkin’ about you either, kid.” Lydia’s eyes went wide, and she looked to Carol.

“What?” Carol asked. “Sure, I use those words, but not around the kids.”

“Hmm,” Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Well, I sure heard a few of ‘em last night when we…”

“Daryl!” Carol warned, raising an eyebrow and nodding toward Lydia.

“Yeah, well, I heard them too. My room’s right next to yours,” Lydia muttered. Carol’s face turned red, and Daryl felt the back of his neck growing hot. 

“Fine. I’ll tone down the language when the kids are around.”

“Ha!” Carol and Daryl looked at Lydia. “Look, I’ve been living with you guys long enough to know that that’s _never _gonna happen.”

“What the hell do you know about it anyway?” Daryl asked. Carol rolled her eyes.

“Twenty-four hours,” Carol said with a mischivious grin.

“What?” Daryl asked.

“I bet you can’t go twenty-four hours without cussing,” Carol wagered. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her.

“Bet what?”

“Should I leave the room?” Lydia asked.

“If you’re heard cussing once in the next twenty four hours, whether the kids are around or not, you have to read RJ’s bedtime stories for the next two weeks.”

“What?” Daryl whined. “With the voices?”

“With the voices. And the dancing.”

“Don’t forget singing,” Lydia offered. Carol nodded with a smile. 

“Oh, we can’t forget the singing.”

“Fucking Michonne spoiled him with that shit.”

“Oh! That was fast!” Carol teased. 

“What? No, we ain’t started yet.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that was specified, do you, Lydia?” Carol asked, looking to the girl.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

“Let’s go pick out RJ’s favorite.”

“Wait, he breaks a cup, says a bad word, and he gets bedtime stories?”

“Oh, we’re going to talk to him together, Pookie, and then _you_ get to read him his favorite bedtime story. Remember, Mr. Elephant always trumpets after he speaks.” She patted his cheek, and turned walking arm-in-arm with Lydia out of the kitchen, leaving Daryl with the rest of the broken glass. With a heavy sigh, he knelt down to finish cleaning it up.

“Shit.”


	27. Chapter 27

You Got Me

Carol gently touched the little white bracelet tied around her wrist. A small smile crept up at the corner of her mouth at the memory of him handing it to her. It was a small gesture that had sent so many emotions flooding through her. 

It had been a good day, up until the satellite crashed, up until she spotted Alpha coming out of hiding. She’d woken on a boat with hopes of seeing the man she loved again and ended the day fighting fires and walkers simultaneously.

She’d been surprised and a little annoyed to see Ezekiel waiting there on the docks for her. He’d attempted, more than once, to speak with her about their relationship before she’d gone off on the boat, but she’d rejected his advances. She knew he loved her, and she felt guilty for that. She’d cared for him, but it had never been the kind love he’d felt for her. Her heart only skipped a beat when she saw Daryl. And even if Ezekiel hadn’t known it, Daryl had always been present in their marriage. Daryl was there in every decision she made, in every night she lay awake wishing it was him laying beside her. He’d been the one she’d gone to when she had no one else to talk to, because, married or not, Ezekiel didn’t know her like Daryl did. And she felt guilty for that, too. She’d never given him her whole heart, but if Daryl had asked for it, it would have been his without question.

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” Carol turned from where she leaned against the porch rail, and she saw Daryl standing in the doorway. 

“What?” She narrowed her eyes at him, and his shoulders slumped. Clearly, his attempt at humor was weak, but it had gotten her attention.

“You’re plannin’ somethin’ out here. You wanna go after her.”

“No I don’t.”

“You’re a bad liar,” he huffed, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He pulled one out with his teeth and extended the pack to her. She shook her hand. “Right. You don’t smoke anymore.” He put the pack back in his pocket and lit his cigarette. “You’re gonna go after her, gonna get yourself hurt or worse.”

“Daryl, the only thing I’m planning is going upstairs and getting some sleep. If I can sleep. Alexandria isn’t a boat, and my ceiling isn’t a sky full of stars. But I’ll adjust.” She shrugged and started to brush past him, but the moment her shoulder bumped his, he reached out and touched her arm, stilling her.

“Don’t.”

“Daryl. I promise, I’ll…”

“Don’t stand there and make a promise you know you ain’t gonna keep.” She turned a little, looking at him. “Just promise me, whatever you plan on doin’, you’ll talk to me. I don’t want you goin’ through this alone.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “It wasn’t your son she killed.” 

“Maybe not. But when you’re hurt, I hurt. And ya got no idea how bad I wanna kill her myself. But we gotta be smart about it, or else we might risk everything we got here.” 

“What do I have?” Carol huffed out, part sob, part laugh. Daryl gently squeezed her arm, and he brought his hand to her face. She dragged her gaze up to meet his, and a tear fell down her cheek. Daryl leaned in then, resting his forehead against hers, and she took a couple shaking breaths, before he pulled back and pressed a kiss above her brow. She closed her eyes and smiled weakly at the sweet gesture. And when she opened her eyes to see his face, he met her gaze with a little half smile.

“You got me.”


	28. Fight Like Hell

***contains a hint of mild spoilers from 10x14***  
Fight Like Hell

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” Negan leaned back against the brick wall of his cell. Carol stepped up toward the bars, her long hair pulled back with a few tendrils spilling down the sides of her face. Her ice blue eyes stared daggers into his. “You came back.”

“I told you I needed to be alone.”

“Did you get what you want?”

“What?”

“Alpha’s dead. You went back into the woods, and I was lucky Daryl didn’t put arrow through my head. I mentioned your name, and he looked like he wanted to cut my dick off and feed it to his dog. So here I am, sitting my ass back where I was before. And there you are, standing right where you were before. Did you get what you wanted out there?”

“She’s dead. That was the deal.”

“The other part of the deal?”

“I’ll talk to them,” Carol offered with a shrug. “You might be the guy that gave them Alpha’s head, but you’re still the guy that killed Glenn. And Abraham. And the others.” Negan sucked his teeth for a moment before leveling a wide grin at her.

“You never planned on holding up your end. I knew you didn’t trust me to get it done.”

“But you got it done. You did it anyway. Why?”

“Nothing better to do,” he grinned.

“I don’t buy that. You saved Judith last winter. Why?”

“What can I say? Kid grows on ya. Speaking of, I hear Daryl’s stepped up to be Daddy since Michonne took off.” Carol eyed him. “Does that make you Mommy?” He chuckled and pushed off from the wall. He stood up and took a couple steps toward the bars. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t? I hear a lot, you know? I’ve heard about you. I’ve heard about old Zekey and how you up and left him after your boy died.”

“Don’t.” Her voice waivered.

“Alright. Sensitive topic. I get it. But I never got that. I always heard you were a badass. I never understood what you saw in him. But I sure see what Daryl sees in you.” Carol took a step backward, and the breath left her lungs. Negan grinned again. “What? You didn’t know?” He let out a slow breath that turned into a soft whistle. “See, our boy Daryl? He’s got it bad. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, he sure has a lot to say. When I told him about our little deal? He looked like somebody punched him in the gut.” 

Carol blinked back the tears that stung her eyes, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see the weakness in her eyes. 

“Hey.” Carol stopped, but she didn’t turn back. “I’ll stay here behind these bars. It’s better than wearing those skin suits all day. But I gotta tell ya, he’s hurting. Whatever it is that broke between you two, you better go talk it out. After what I did to your friends? I don’t expect you’ll make things right with me. But with him? You find somebody worth keeping around in this goddamn world, you better fight like hell to keep them around.” Carol’s shoulders shook as she drew in a ragged breath, and without turning back to look at him, she headed for the door.

Once outside, she leaned against the railing of the steps, letting out choked sobs. Her knees buckled, and she sat down on the steps, wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands. She looked toward home, and there it was, the faint light coming from the basement window. She sniffled and dried her eyes, and when she finally drew up the courage to stand, she started off toward home, hoping Daryl’s offer for her to talk to him still stood. She was ready to start moving forward, and she needed to do that with him.


	29. Out of Your Mind

Out of Your Mind

*Prompted by anonymous on Tumblr*

“It’s the middle of the night. I was warm and sleeping so good. I could kill you right now!” Carol hissed, following Daryl into the old jail cell once reserved for Negan. These days, it was collecting dust and often served as a storage room for surplus canned goods and other supplies.

“You wouldn’t,” Daryl snorted, staying back while Carol stepped into the dark room. The only light that filtered through the dusty window was pale moonlight. Daryl shut the door, and a moment later, he lit a match and held it to the wick of an oil lamp that hung by the door. Soon, a warm, orange glow gave off just enough light to surround them in shadows. Daryl took a step forward then, and without hesitation, grabbed Carol’s hand and pulled her close. His lips were on hers in an instant, and Carol gasped softly against his mouth. She pulled back a little, wide-eyed. She pulled her arms around his neck and chuckled.

“What?” he asked. His own grin widened as her eyes crinkled and her shoulders shook from laughter. “What?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Hey, you’re the one too scared to mess around in the house ‘cause the kids’ll hear.”

“I’m not scared to mess around,” she laughed. “But every time we try, somebody wakes up with a bad dream or wants some warm milk.”

“That’s why Lydia’s babysitting,” Daryl grinned.

“Does she know she’s babysitting, or is this like the time you left a note on her bedroom door in the middle of the night and told her she was in charge and we were going hunting for a week?”

“It’s just for a few hours,” Daryl promised. “You can be as loud as you want down here. Nobody’ll hear. Not since we soundproofed the damn place to block out Negan’s bitchin’ and moanin’.” _So romantic._

“Is that a challenge?” Carol asked, quirking an eyebrow. Daryl grinned and shrugged his shoulder.

“Maybe. You want it to be?” Carol snorted then, and she relaxed in his arms, letting him kiss her again.

“Hmm, let me think about that for just a second,” she murmured, tugging at the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. She answered him with the kind of kiss that always left them both eager for more.


	30. Say It

Say It

_Say it! _the words rang in Carol’s ears. The raspy moans and the broken, bony fingers clawing at the rusted metal door they were currently pressing their backs against added to the throbbing ache in her head from where she’d been slammed back against a wall by a whisperer. They were safe. For now. The door was secure. Now they were biding their time until the walkers decided to move on to another potential meal. Once things quieted, they both knew they’d be fighting the stragglers and hightailing it to safety.

So far, they were rounding the end of three hours cooped up together in that old hospital room. The group had split into smaller groups, and the smaller groups—at least theirs—had been split up by both accident and necessity.

_Say it!_ She chanced a look at Daryl, who was currently sitting right next to her. His head was hung low, his shaggy hair hiding his face. His legs were crossed and folded, hands resting in his lap. His fingers twitched, and he shifted anxiously beside her. He hadn’t said a word to her in almost an hour.

Her heart felt the familiar ache that had settled in the hollow of her chest and made a home like a cat in a hayloft on a cold winter’s night. It was an ache that would never go away, she was certain. She was afraid to speak, afraid to move, because everything she’d said or done lately had ended up hurting him. She hated herself for it.

_Say it!_

She sighed and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, rubbing slow and hard until she saw white bursts of light in the darkness. Her heart raced, and words she dreaded burnt the back of her throat like venom. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She sighed and leaned her head back against the door.

Daryl finally sighed and held his head up. He turned his face toward hers.

“Anybody ever tell you you’re the loudest thinker in the whole damn world?” Carol’s eyes flew open, and her lips parted in a soft gasp. She turned her face to look at him, and tears stung her eyes. “I can hear the wheels turnin’ from here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, uncertain what she was apologizing for. For not knowing what to say? For knowing what she _wanted_ to say? For being terrified of finally admitting to him what she had been trying to deny in herself for so long? For being afraid of what he’d say or think or do, because after all, her life had been nothing but a steep slide down a rough and rugged hill for longer than she could remember. Only now, she was gaining momentum and taking others down with her.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “Yeah, you keep sayin’ that.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” she sniffled. “Sorry.” She scoffed. “It’s useless.”

“It’s not. But you don’t owe me no apologies.” Carol glanced at him. He was looking at her for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Don’t I?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him. “If it wasn’t for me, she’d still be here.” She watched his shoulders fall, and he shook his head.

“That ain’t all on you,” he said softly. “I’m the one that sent them into that cave after you.”

“I’m the one that took off.”

“You wanted to go alone. I made that decision. I was so damned scared of losin’ you, I sent people we both care about into the dark to pull you out.”

“And I almost got them killed. I _did_ get one of them killed.”

“You ain’t gonna carry that all by yourself,” Daryl said quietly. Carol shook her head and brushed her tears away.

“You lost her because of me.” Daryl’s shoulders fell again.

“You ain’t hearin’ me,” he said quietly. He looked down at his hands, and Carol looked at him. “I sent every one of them into that cave to get you out, ‘cause I was scared I was gonna lose you. Losin’ anybody in this world cuts deep. There ain’t no avoidin’ it, and you gotta accept you’re gonna lose ‘em all eventually. But losin’ you? That ain’t an option. I’d throw myself into a cave fulla walkers a hundred times over it if meant keepin’ you safe.” Carol dragged in a shuddering breath and blinked back tears. “I been tryin’ to tell you. I been tryin’ to say it.” Carol sniffled and wiped at her eyes and shook her head.

“Say it,” she whispered, reaching over to touch his arm. He didn’t recoil. He didn’t flinch. He looked right into her eyes and chewed on his words for a moment. Then he put his hand over hers.

“I love you.” All at once, she felt like the air had been sucked from the room. She couldn’t breathe, and her heart felt like it might burst all at the same time. What should have been a smile became a sob, and Daryl turned a little, angling his body toward hers. He reached up to brush a fresh tear from her cheek.

“Daryl, no,” she whispered. “I’m not good enough for you.”

“Stop.” His voice was firm but gentle. “There ain’t nobody better. You hear me?” Carol shook her head, and her shoulders slumped, years of missed chances flashing through her mind in high definition. “Carol.” She blinked and looked into his eyes again.

“I love you, too,” she choked out, letting him pull her into a warm embrace. She buried her face against his neck, and her hot tears soaked into his skin like rain. He held her and traced circles against her back with his fingertips until her breathing slowed and her tears ran dry. When she finally lifted her head, she brushed her lips against his in a soft kiss. Daryl’s lips twitched against hers, restraining himself from kissing her like he really wanted to. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her. And at the same time, he wondered how he’d turned into this man. He’d been terrified of being close to anyone, and then he’d lost her for what he’d thought was forever. And all this time, he’d been terrified of losing her to her grief, and somewhere along the way he’d found a voice for the feelings he’d harbored for so damn long.

“You ok?” he asked quietly when she pulled back and rested her head against his chest.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

“Ready?”

“You wanted me to talk to you. I’m ready,” she repeated. “If you’re still willing to listen.” Daryl chucked softly and looked around the dusty old room as the moans and groans of the dead echoed off the walls.

“We’re gonna be here a while. Now’s as good a time as any.” Carol smiled through her tears then, and she leaned in to kiss him once more. And then, he pulled her close and let her take her time, let her tell the story she’d been holding in for so long. He let her share the weight of her heartache and pain, and when she was done, she let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes, snuggling in closer to him when he tightened his hold on her and buried his face against her hair. For the first time, she felt a wave of relief flood through her. Her tears ran new, and this time, she embraced her emotions and all of that pain. For the first time, she took her own advice and finally let herself feel it.


End file.
